When Someone Hands You A Relic...

On a mission from my mother, my brother entered my room with two pieces of college-ruled notebook paper, neatly paper-clipped together, written in fine, penciled printing on the front and back. Small numbers, one through four, were written on the bottom of each page. It was all my handwriting, back when I cared about not looking sloppy.

     "Lisson twirled the end of her long red braid nervously around her finger. 'Are you sure?' she asked the man staring out of the tent flap.
     "He looked back and smiled at her. The sun was coming through the canvas and shining on her red hair and the gold jewerley she wore. Her green eyes looked into his brown ones as he took both her hands in his. 'I wish I wasn't,' he said." [sic]
It was dated 7/29/04. I was thirteen years old. It goes on to detail some gentle affection between husband and wife, of which I had no experience. I hadn't even read enough romance in books to justify some sort of expertise in the subject. And then it details a horse race between Lisson's children and the parental affection shown there. (Because I was apparently the expert on all things marital, paternal, and maternal.)

As I read it again, almost six years later, it took me a horribly long time to figure out what story was being told. I finally realized it was part of the Carvaning series (an allegorical fantasy that I've put on a long, indefinite hiatus). It took me even longer to decide that this was not the Lost Chapter (of what I think was the 6th book of the Carvaning series; I know I wrote it, and I can remember it, but I can't for the life of me find it), whose MC was also red-haired. And then, after reading the rest, I remembered that Lisson's children, not Lisson, were the main characters of the series.

It's wacky to read something you barely remember writing. I must have given it to my mom to grade, or to critique, or something. (I don't do that often anymore. Our tastes are just way different.) Yet it was also inspiring to see that I have made progress in writing technique (I can spell jewelry now!) and story telling.

What about you? Care to share any relics from the past? Don't worry about the embarrassment factor - we're all friendly and safe authoresses (and authors) here!

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